94.

11:29:10am. St Kilda Pier.When I first arrived in Melbourne two and a half years ago, having lived the majority of my life in Tasmania, I used to wander the streets of the city craning my neck and looking up – at the variety of buildings, the layers upon layers of steel, glass, tin, tiles, and bricks. It was a different visual language to the one I’d grown accustomed to; in Tasmania it was all about sky – vast, bright, and all around, making me feel so amazingly small in the scheme of things.

As I made my way out of the city, continuing my day of wanderings (both physical and intellectual), I was struck by this contrast. And now, I don’t spend so much time looking up in the city, but am completely struck silent whenever I’m back in the presence of so much vertical space. This spot gave me a sense of bringing those worlds together, acknowledging the space, whatever might be in it…

And isn’t it interesting, how the simple act of observation and attention can lead to a space of such quiet contemplation? Who needs meditation when you have a camera, one lens, and twenty spaces left on your memory card?